The Art of War
by JordanMcGee
Summary: Post 6x11 – what if Tara made a different choice? Tired of being a pawn in the DA's quest to crush SAMCRO, Tara takes matters into her own hands to secure a better future her boys. But that means going to war against everyone, including the only man she's ever loved. And herself.
1. Prologue

**The Art of War**

AN: Finally, the S7 AU in Tara's POV that I planned to write years ago…

I've said it before, and I'll say it again – the storyline that Sutter gave Tara in S6 was complete bullshit. No way that the brilliant character he created would make such poor decisions regardless of her desperation, nor would she ever let some drunken hag take her down. There was absolutely nothing "organic" about the storytelling in that season. So this is my way of exorcising the horror and disgust I felt at the demise of Jax and Tara.

That said, please forgive any details that I get wrong when referring to what happened during S6; I skipped most of it because it sucked (IMO) and refuse to re-watch. Apologies if I offend anyone who loved S6 and S7 (which I boycotted), but that's my opinion and the reason I started writing SOA fanfiction.

Now jumping off my soapbox and on to the story…If you've read anything I've written, you may have noticed that I love to reference both music and literature as I find inspiration and motivation in both. For this story, that doesn't change, but I'm trying something a little different - hopefully I don't fall on my face :)

For those not familiar, "The Art of War" is an ancient Chinese military treatise that has guided many of history's brilliant military strategists; hundreds of years later, it's still relevant - even to the battles regular people wage in everyday life. Like Tara.

But this story isn't just about Tara fighting Jax for their sons' future; she's also fighting against herself and the lure of the man who will always be a big part of her. For that, I've brought in a song from my favorite band of all time, U2. "A Song for Someone" played in my head as I worked through the story outline; it's the romantic, sentimental contrast to the cold, blunt reality of fighting the man she loves.

All the chapter titles are based on lyrics from that song to make sure I don't stray too far from my outline (which will still probably happen). The Prologue is short but the other chapters will be longer. Hope you enjoy reading it (although I warn you that it will be a bit angsty throughout because that's how I roll).

Despite my earlier rant, I am thankful that Sutter had the brilliant mind to create Tara, Jax and the SOA mythology. I own nothing except my imagination.

* * *

 **Prologue**

A wistful pout twists her lips as she watches the pack of rowdy boys racing around, shrieking at the top of their lungs like hooligans (her Grandma's favorite word) - how she wishes she could be playing with them right now. And normally she'd be running around with them - the only girl the boys let join their crazy little club, the only girl who'd put up with their shit (her Daddy's favorite word).

But not today. Instead she stays away from all the other kids during recess, lying on her belly on the soft grass to read the pair of Madeline books that her Mommy bought for her when they were at the Goodwill thrift shop yesterday. Usually she loves the Madeline books - although, having learned to read before kindergarten started, she loves any book she can get. But today it's been hard to read…it's been hard to do anything because, after last night, every part of her hurts.

It'd been an accident - she was hungry, not getting enough to eat at dinner because Mommy burned the food again. All she'd wanted was the milk inside the refrigerator to put in her cereal, she hadn't meant to spill Daddy's beer.

He'd come running into the kitchen at the sound of the bottles crashing to the floor, then started yelling at the sight of all the broken glass and the sticky brown liquid pooling at her feet. Clutching the milk carton, she just stood there - too scared to say or do anything; he'd slapped her when she spilled orange juice at breakfast this morning, but this was worse…way, way worse. Daddy loves his beer, and she'd broken all of it.

She'd propped herself up on her elbows to read the book, but her arms are getting tired so she rolls to her side and immediately winces when the ground touches one of the really sore ouchies on her back. She's been spanked before - hundreds of times - but Daddy had been really, really mad last night. He'd hit her over and over with his belt until Mommy finally made him stop.

Biting her lip as her eyes water, she rolls on to her belly again. She may have bawled like a baby last night, but she won't let anyone see her cry today - not even when it hurt so much to sit still in her chair after Mrs. Spencer, her teacher, had snapped at her to stop squirming so much.

Maybe when she gets home from school, she'll sneak one of Mommy's pills; Mommy always says when "life sucks" the pills make her feel better. Well "life sucks" when she can't play with her friends or read her books or even sit still in her chair at school because Daddy hates her.

"Hi Tara. Whatcha reading?"

She looks up and can't help but smile as Jackson plops down on the ground next to her. If she had a best friend, it would be him. For as long as she could remember, he's always been so nice to her - always been the one to include her when he and his friends played during school recess, at the park or at his friend (and her next-door neighbor) Opie's house. And last month, when Curt Suter had teased her for the hole in her sweater, Jackson had knocked him to the ground and threatened to "beat the shit out of him." Mrs. Spencer called Jackson's Mommy then gave him a time out in the corner for fighting and saying bad words, but Curt never made fun of her again.

Scrambling to sit up, Tara ignores the twinge of pain shooting across her back. Somehow it doesn't hurt so much right now - nothing feels bad when Jackson's around; being with her friend - with his blond hair and bright blue eyes - feels like warm sunshine. "My Mommy bought me some Madeline books. I've almost read them all."

"Wow, that's really stupid. Madeline books are for dumb girls." Suddenly, Tara notices Jackson's buddies standing beside him - including Kyle, who's never nice to anyone. She thinks about kicking him, but her legs hurt too.

Jackson's blue eyes narrow as he turns his head to glare at his friend. "Shut up, butthead! Tara's not dumb. She's the smartest kid in school."

"She's a girrrl…" Lowell chimes in. "Jackson's girrll…"

Opie smacks him across the head. "Stop it. He's scared enough…"

Scowling, Jackson turns on his best friend. "I'm not scared! You guys really need to shut up so I can do this."

Tara blinks in confusion. Both Jackson and Mrs. Spencer keep telling her how smart she is, but maybe she isn't so smart after all because none of this is making any sense to her. She raises a brow (something her Mommy does all the time to ask a question without saying a word) at the boy who's now staring at her so hard that she worries that he can see where her Daddy had smacked her in the face last night.

Her fears turn to mush, as does the rest of her when he grabs her face in his hands and plants a long hard kiss on her lips. Through the ringing in her ears and the pounding in her brain, she can hear the other boys hooting and whistling; before she can calm the pounding in her heart, Jackson leaps up and dashes off as if a bunch of vampire zombies are chasing after him.

Many years later Tara would discover that, until that fateful day, Jax had never kissed a girl before - pressured by his friends (who'd all claimed to have kissed girls before), he'd pounced on her. She also learned that he wouldn't even consider kissing anyone else but her. As if there was anyone else for either of them.

"You're Jackson's girrrlllfriend…He luuuvs yoooo."

A wide, radiant smile slowly spreads across her face…in an instant, all the pain - from the welts on her back, from the fear that her Mommy and Daddy don't love her - melt away. As long as her beautiful blond boy is around, she's happy. Jackson Teller is her sunshine, and Tara loves him.


	2. I Have Some Scars

**I Have Some Scars**

" _He who wishes to fight must first count the cost."_

 _Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

She slides the soft cast over her hand, covering the ugly surgical scars that symbolized not only the demise of her career as a surgeon, but also to the dreams that she'd soon escape Charming and SAMCRO for that fairy tale life with Jax and their sons.

Once fastened, her green eyes instantly dart away to focus on anything else besides the pliant material that'd once ushered in so much hope - the chance of full recovery, of a promising new practice in Oregon. Now the cast taunts her, a cruel reminder of what could've been before the reality of her life had crushed her once again - like SAMCRO's deadly reaper bent on destroying everything it its wake.

Her gaze drifts over to the foot of the bed where her husband had been sitting just moments ago. Over the years, how many hours have the two of them spent in this room - on that bed - stripped bare, literally and figuratively, as they shared their bodies and innermost thoughts?

She'd been fifteen when Jax first brought her here to SAMCRO's cabin, initially to party with friends, but then they'd spent the entire time locked in this room lost in each other. And so every time she'd been here with him - during high school and after she returned and they re-connected - this room had been a haven for them to be alone together, shutting out the rest of the world.

But after everything that's happened over the past few weeks - her arrest and that stupidly desperate faked miscarriage to ostracize Gemma, his full-blown embrace of SAMCRO's darkest side and infidelity with that hooker - there was no escaping the friction radiating from the both of them; palpable tension so thick that not even Jax's razor sharp ka-bar could penetrate it.

" _I understand... why you did everything you did. I'm sorry being with me took you to that place." Briefly his blue eyes had locked with hers, imploring her to say something… anything, before rising and leaving the room._

His words had stunned her, that he could understand her motivations and forgive so quickly; speechless, she'd just stared at him. Could it really be that simple to cast aside all the hurt and betrayal, to look past the emotional scars still so fresh and raw?

 _She can't stop staring at them, the angry red ridges marring her pale hand with such grisly precision. Thanks to an abusive father and a psychotic ex-boyfriend, she'd suffered more bruises and broken bones than she cares to remember - yet no beating by dear old Dad or crazy Joshua had left scars like these or threatened her future with such heartbreaking devastation._

 _Unless Dr. Balian's cautiously optimistic prognosis during her exam today turns in reality - that she could one day perform surgery again - those scars would be a permanent reminder of what she's lost, all her hard work and sacrifice for nothing…_

" _It's a good sign, right? The new cast?"_

 _Glancing up to see at her husband framed in the doorway, she forces a small smile at the hopeful expression on his gorgeous face. Jax's felt so guilty about what happened to her, blaming himself even though they both knew fault rested solely with that bastard Clay._

" _Dr. Balian seemed somewhat positive…as much as he can be." Self-consciously, she hides her hand under the blanket; no need for her beautiful husband to see her ugliness. "Did you just get home?" Another late night for SAMCRO._

 _Shaking his head, he plops down on the couch beside her. "No, I got home a while ago…you were passed out right here. Must've been a tough day."_

 _So that's how the blanket had been covering her when she woke up; he must have draped it over her. She lays her head on his strong shoulder, melting thoroughly as he wraps his arms around her._

 _It'd actually been one of her better days until she'd tried to patch up the crazy bite on Tig's ass, and her hand couldn't stop shaking. That's never happened before, and it scared the holy shit out of her - enough to come home and get baked in her living room while Gemma watched over the boys. Not exactly a mother-of-the-year moment for her. Christ, it hurts like hell to know that she's turning into her own mother - whenever it got too hard to cope with the shit in her life, Grace Knowles got high and ignored her kid._

 _As if sensing the bleakness of her thoughts, Jax hugs her tighter against him and presses a kiss to her forehead; he gently pulls her damaged hand from under the blanket and brushes his lips across her fingers. "I know I don't tell you this enough…" Softly, he strokes her skin between the sutures. "Since I was a little kid, you've always been the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."_

 _Actually, he's been telling her that since high school - every time he's come back to her after a run, every time he's seen her naked…which is a hell of a lot. Warmth spreads through her as she nestles closer to him; all's perfect when she's wrapped in his arms._

" _But what I love most is that you've always been the bravest person I've ever met." He cups her cheek as his riveting blue eyes bore into her. "We're going to get through this together, Babe. I promise."_

 _Unable to resist, Tara slams her mouth over his, kissing him hungrily until she feels his stiff cock bulging against her stomach. Tweaking his goatee with her fingers, she beams at her slightly dazed badass biker. "I love you, Jax; so much…"_

Her hand balls into a fist - that same hand which just saved a man's life less than an hour ago. With only Chibs and a motley assortment of borrowed/stolen surgical tools to assist her, she'd sailed through Bobby's surgery like the formidable doctor she'd once been. For the first time since the botched kidnapping that'd crushed both her hand and her psyche, she'd felt that old confidence surge inside her. Once again she was Dr. Tara Knowles, blessed with gifted hands and brimming with a surgeon's self-assured omniscience that others often construed as godlike arrogance.

And it'd felt damn good. Staring at herself in the mirror, Tara nods at her reflection - since her release from jail, she'd tried to avoid the mirrors in her house, not recognizing the complete stranger gazing back at her. But now…she's there - a spark of the old Tara Knowles, who'd battled through a miserable childhood, a grueling ascent through medical school and residency, Joshua, Jax...Survivor. Warrior.

Fuck being a victim of everyone else's ambitions. Fuck Patterson. Fuck Gemma. Fuck the stranger in the mirror who'd been too scared and too stupid to remember that Tara Knowles was a goddamn fighter. And fight like hell she will…not just for Abel and Thomas to escape a fate tied to SAMCRO, but for that bright future that had once been hers.

The bullet she'd dug out of Bobby's shoulder suddenly weighs much lighter in her pocket.

* * *

"What the hell does she want?" she snaps at Roosevelt when the sheriff greets them as they emerge from the elevator.

Mitch, her lawyer, had called Patterson this morning to inform her that Tara had nothing to say to help her nail SAMCRO; the DA then demanded that they meet with her at her office in the County building. Tara hadn't appreciated the summons for she had to drop everything and leave the cabin, where Bobby was still recovering, and trek to Stockton.

Roosevelt regards her impassively, although there's that flicker of sympathy in his eyes - as if he knows what Patterson is doing to her is all bullshit but can't do anything about it. "You'll find out soon enough," he murmurs cryptically then motions to them to follow him.

Tara rolls her eyes at Mitch, who shrugs helplessly, then turns to join the sheriff. "Mitch already told her that there's nothing I can do or say to help the two of you," she coldly informs the man who'd arrested her, effectively killing off what was left of her medical career; the state medical board had revoked her license soon after that.

From the weary air of resignation that seems to weigh heavily on him, she suspects that - like her - Roosevelt's been just another pawn of other people's ruthlessly fucked-up agendas - first Toric's, then Patterson's. However, she can't afford any empathy for him; while Eli wears that sheriff's badge and obediently executes the DA's bidding, he's the enemy.

She can sense Mitch's disapproval as he trails behind them; he'd wanted her to listen to what the DA had to say before making any decisions about cooperation. While she appreciates his caution, making sure she thinks through all her options - that's what she's been doing her whole life, her damn brain never stops. However, now she's made her choice; it's time for him to man up and fight beside her.

Roosevelt remains silent as he guides them to a closed door at the end of the hallway; shooting her one last inscrutable glance, he opens it and ushers them inside.

Storming into the room, Tara opens her mouth to tell Patterson that she's not interested in talking about any more deals - only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of Jax sitting at the interrogation table across from the DA.

From the stunned look on his face, he hadn't expected to see her either. "What fucking game are you playing?" Jax hisses at the other woman. "You need to leave my wife alone."

"I thought this would be a good time for a family chat," Patterson tells him then beckons Tara and Mitch to join them at the table. "After so tragically losing a close member of your family, I thought you'd want to be together."

Tara bristles at the thought of Clay, that poisonous son-of-a-bitch was emphatically not family; despite her dedication to saving lives, she's waited and wanted for that bastard's death for some time now - the more painful, the better. After it was done, she'd spotted the faint flicker of regret in Jax's eyes for brutally killing the man who'd been his step-father since high school; for a moment, she'd shoved aside her anger at him and grasped his hand in brief solidarity. He'd done the right thing.

So if they've been summoned here to talk about Clay's murder, it's going to be a hell of a short meeting; there's no way she's saying shit about it. The bastard's dead, like he should've been long ago. Justice had been served.

Sitting down in the chair Mitch pulls out for her, she darts a quick glance at Jax, who's clearly pissed, before facing Patterson. "So what are we doing here?" On a rational level, Tara understands that the DA has a job to do - getting justice for the kids who'd been savagely murdered in that school shooting as well as closure for their families - however, she deeply resents the woman for her cold-blooded tactics.

"I just wanted to inform you both that we've learned something new in our investigation." Patterson's dark eyes flit around the table before resting on Jax. "Good news for you, Mr. Teller."

Crossing his arms, Jax just glares at her. "Great, we're always happy to hear about good news."

Patterson's expression remains implacable. "We've been doing some follow-up work on what happened on that tragic day, to try and understand what could've caused that boy to do what he did to his classmates. One thought was that he'd been so enamored of SAMCRO and your guns, that he wanted to impress you so that maybe one day you'll let him join your gang."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. We're mechanics and motorcycle enthusiasts…"

"…so we decided to check your alibi for that day to make sure you hadn't been there, cheering him on."

Tara's not sure what Patterson's game is - provoking Jax like this, knowing how easily he could leap across the table and choke the living shit out of her. Jax's no saint, but there's not a chance in hell he'd ever have anything to do with child killings. To her shock, he remains silent while his blue eyes spit hot fury at the DA. If looks could kill, the woman would be a butchered, bloody corpse.

Apparently undeterred by Jax's lethal stare, Patterson continues her dissertation. "You may be surprised to know that, despite our relatively limited resources, we are very connected and have contacts all over this county's underbelly - including, your new escort business right here in Stockton."

Tara swallows back the bile that erupts inside of her at the mention of that repulsive hell hole; images of Jax with that whore flash through her vision, threatening to shatter her hard-fought composure and lunge for her cheating husband's fucking throat.

While the DA's gaze remains riveted on Jax, Tara can sense Patterson probing her rising emotions as well and struggles to rein in her temper. _That's what Patterson wants - to rattle your resolve_ , Tara's rational brain chides her, _don't give in to her…_

"We were able to find witnesses, who'd been at Diosa that day and swear that you never left the company of the madam, Colette Jane. Even when the two of you were locked inside her bedroom all alone, they could hear both of you…solidifying your partnership, so to speak."

Tara's tenuous control collapses as hot blood rushes through her brain, drowning out all reason. She'd still been in jail when the school shooting happened, locked up because she'd tried to protect her dear husband and his precious Club. And while she'd been imprisoned at Stockton - alone, terrified and fighting fellow inmates in order to survive - Jax'd been a few miles away fucking that bitch. It'd been crushing enough to have caught him with the whore that one time, but then he'd been lashing out at her deception. But hearing of this betrayal…it's just all too much to process; Tara struggles to breathe as all the air rushes from her lungs.

"Tara…" Mitch's soft voice tugs her out of hellish reverie and back to the grim reality inside this miserable, suffocating room where her marriage officially died.

Christ, she can feel herself shaking but can't seem to do a goddamn thing about it. Somehow she manages to pull herself together and skewer Patterson with all the loathing she can muster. Despite her blurred vision, she can easily see through the vicious bitch's manipulations. Fuck her.

"I didn't know the DA's office now polices adultery…" Tara hates hearing the faint hitch of shrill hurt in her voice, but rising out of her chair, she holds her head up high. "If your goal was to wreck my marriage - then congratulations, you should be very proud. But it doesn't change a damn thing…I can't help you because I don't know shit."

She can feel Jax's intense stare boring into her, as if willing at her to look at him. But she can't. Not now, maybe not ever. Instead, she shoots Patterson another withering glare before turning on her heels to leave the room. Roosevelt, who'd been standing guard at the door, just steps out of her way.

"Tara!" Jax's shout shatters the quiet of the hallway. "Goddamn it, let go of me. I need to talk to my wife. Tara!"

Swiping at her eyes, she doesn't break stride on her way to the elevator, ignoring Mitch who'd apologized to the DA before scurrying to follow her. Turning around inside the elevator, she can see Roosevelt pointing a gun at Jax, while he struggles to escape the two deputies trying to restrain him. He's still screaming her name when the elevator doors close.

* * *

"Don't get me wrong, Tara - it's always good to see you - but what are you doing here?"

She accepts the mug of coffee from him and hugs it to her chest; anything to warm the coldness within, chilling her all the way to the bone. Although she much prefers this icy remoteness to the searing pain that'd eviscerated her in the DA's office; it's been her coping mechanism ever since she was a little girl, when she could pretend the bad hurts had happened to someone else.

The familiar cold resolve had enveloped her by the time she walked out of the county building. After dismissing Mitch with the promise to call him later, she'd blatantly lied to Rat - who Jax had tasked to follow her everywhere - telling him that his boss needed to talk to him, but the sheriff had taken his phone. She knows that Jax will probably kick the poor guy's ass for leaving her alone, but she doesn't need any of SAMCRO's spies following her - not where she needs to go. No one can know that.

She'd known that Patterson was ruthless…but this attack on Tara's family life clearly showed how low the woman was willing to go in order to get what she wanted. Mitch is a good guy - a solid lawyer; however, Tara needs help from someone who can fight even dirtier if she's going to emerge from this nightmare shit show with her freedom intact. And then she can take her boys and get the hell out of here for good. Fuck Jax.

So she decided to turn to the one guy who knew all of their weaknesses, SAMCRO and the DA; like Jax, she's known him for a good part of her life and also like Jax, his moral compass could calibrate in any way it takes to kick ass and win the day.

Taking a sip of coffee, she peers at him over the rim - her green eyes locking with his. "I need your help, Rosie."


	3. From Where I've Been

**From Where I've Been**

" _All warfare is based on deception."  
_ _Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

" _What's his name?" Although never one to approach grown-ups, she's so drawn to the sweet blond baby that she forgets her usual shyness, forgets how much she loves playing with the other kids at the park, forgets how much Jackson's mommy scares her._

 _But Mrs. Teller doesn't look so mean while she's sitting on the park bench holding Jackson's little brother; she even smiles. "His name's Thomas." Her brown eyes lift from the baby to fix on Tara. "You're Frank and Grace's little girl, right?"_

 _Nodding, Tara inches even closer - if she ever got brave enough, she could reach out and touch the baby's cute little toes. "How old is he?"_

 _During Show & Tell at school, Jax had quickly told the class that he had a new baby brother before pulling a lizard out of his sweatshirt pocket. Although she'd clapped excitedly when his turn ended, it'd also made her sad. She's wanted a brother or sister or both for so long - someone to play with all the time, someone to crawl into bed with when nights got scary. But her mommy and daddy never brought home any babies for her._

" _Thomas is six months old today." Mrs. Teller's smile grows even wider as she bounces him up and down on her lap. But that smile instantly switches to a scowl as she apparently spots something over Tara's head. "Can you do me a favor, sweetheart? I need you to watch him for a minute." She quickly buckles Thomas into his carrier before rushing off to break up a fight between Jackson and two other boys._

 _Climbing onto the bench next to the baby carrier, she peers inside and melts thoroughly at the sight of his toothless smile and bright blue eyes twinkling up at her. Unable to resist, she strokes his plump cheek then giggles when he grabs then squeezes her finger with his tiny fist._

" _Hi Toms," she lisps (since losing both her front teeth, some words have been really hard to say). "I'm Tara."_

 _She giggles again when he tries to shove both his fist and her finger into his mouth. "Jackson's lucky to have you for a brother."_

 _As if he'd understood what she'd said, the baby beams another huge grin at her - answering with a rush of happy gurgles that (Tara's convinced) sound like he's trying to say her name. "We can play pretend though…" she whispers to him. "You can be my little brother, and I'll be your big sister…and it'll be our secret."_

Her eyes flutter open as she's yanked into consciousness by the incessant chirping of what must've been a million of the loudest damn birds on the planet. Stretching her arms, she winces as the sore muscles in her back and shoulders cry out in protest. It's been a while since she's fallen asleep outside, but propped up against a cold stone slab was definitely a first.

She runs her fingers through her short hair as if trying to clear the remains of sleepy fog from her brain - even after all the years of working crazy hours and sporadic sleep, she's still a damn zombie in the morning. Unlike Jax, who could wake up at any ungodly hour, fully refreshed and ready to take on the world.

Jax…

The niggling aches in her muscles fade to nothing compared to the stabbing pain in her chest at the thought of him - the cheating bastard who'd sworn that he'd never hurt her. Shit, if she got paid for every time he's made and broken that promise, she'd have enough money to bribe Patterson to drop the charges against her.

Gritting her teeth, Tara shoves aside the memory of those excruciating moments in the DA's interrogation room…of the furious, yet pleading look on Jax's face as he screamed her name right before the elevator doors had mercifully slammed shut. She can't afford to let pain and rage cloud her judgment, not if she wants to fight for her freedom and protect Abel and Thomas from the MC life that ruined their father. No, like her nineteen-year-old self, she has to ignore emotion and sentiment and let her stoic, circumspect brain lead the way out of this poisonous town.

" _Patterson's a political animal. She needs a big win to get out of the Sanwa DA's office and score that state supreme court appointment she's been angling for since Judge Taft announced his retirement." Rosen plucks a magazine from his desk, flipping through it until he settles on a page and hands it to Tara. "Prosecuting and convicting a criminal motorcycle gang for a tragic school shooting might just give her that boost. Unfortunately, Jax's only weakness is you - and she knows it._

 _And if anyone would know Jax's and SAMCRO's weaknesses, it would be their former lawyer. Rosen's known Jax since they were kids as his father had been the Club's first lawyer, hired by John Teller himself. A bigger payday as full-time counsel for a somewhat shady billionaire had lured him from the MC's payroll a couple of years ago, leaving Jax and his cronies in Lowen's capable hands. But even though Rosie had walked away from SAMCRO, he'd told her she could contact him any time. Something she hadn't felt the need to do, until now._

 _Outrage surges through her as she glances down at the photo of a smiling Patterson shaking hands with the Governor. Although she's not surprised that Patterson's quest to nail SAMCRO for the school shooting stems from more than getting justice for the victims, it infuriates her to know the woman would put Tara's little boys at risk just so that she can get a better job._

" _So what do I do?" Tara drops the magazine before she rips it into shreds. "Mitch wants me to make the deal with her and testify against Jax and the Club...but I can't." Despite her rage over her husband's betrayal, it didn't change her mind about not wanting to send him to prison. "Besides, I don't want to spend the rest of my life in witness protection pretending to be someone else…I certainly don't want that for Abel and Thomas. They shouldn't be raised on fear and lies."_

 _Rosen nods his understanding, God knows how many people he's seen disappear into WitPro. "And you'd never be able to practice medicine again because your handlers would make you to stay away from any connection to you previous life. I get that."_

 _She shrugs, gripping the mug of coffee again - it's not as hot as she needs it to be to soothe the ice forming inside her once again. It still hurts so much - and will probably always hurt - that the career as a doctor that she'd dreamed about, worked so hard to achieve was gone. "It's not like I'd have that anyway," she mutters bitterly. "But at least our lives would be our own."_

" _Well, then…" Leaning forward, Rosen pins her with his laser blue eyes. "Let's get started."_

Tara turns to face the headstone, a fond smile spreading across her face - the first time she's felt like smiling in what feels like forever. She presses a kiss to her palm, then flattens it on the stone right above his name - the first person to really, truly love her; the first boy to break her heart when he died way too young.

"I miss you, Toms," she whispers. "I wish things could've worked out with your brother…but no matter what happens with him, I'm your sister now - for real."

Rising to her feet, Tara brushes the grass from her jeans. It's time to go kick some ass.

* * *

"Where the fuck have you been?"

If anyone were ever crazy enough to write her biography - even with all the complicated, down-right psychotic people she's known - there'd be no doubt that her near life-long relationship with Gemma Teller-Morrow would be the most insane (which is really something, considering she'd dated that psychopath ATF agent).

Over the course of more than three decades, she and Gemma have run nearly the full gamut of what two women could be to each other. When Tara first lived in Charming, they'd gone from polite neighbors (the Tellers lived a block away from her childhood home) to cold enemies when she started dating Jax. After Tara returned from an 11-year absence, they'd circled each other like wary opponents before developing a mutual albeit grudging trust that led to an unlikely friendship. The Queen of SAMCRO had mentored her through the unscripted, unholy path of a VP's Old Lady in-training - and by the time Thomas was born, Gemma had been more of a mother to her than Grace Knowles had ever been.

However, whatever tight family bond she and Gemma finally managed to create after years of acrimony got ripped to shit in the bloody aftermath of both Morrows finding about JT's incriminating letters, Jax's ill-fated decision to leave SAMCRO and lead his family out of Charming, the cartel-turned-CIA, Clay's murderous paranoia…so much violence and destruction and death - it'd twisted whatever love they had for one another into something even more toxic than ever before.

Like mother, like son…

"I wasn't aware I needed to check in with you." She elbows her way past Gemma, who'd been blocking the doorway like a belligerent oak tree. Nothing can keep Tara from her sons; not even their crazy fucking grandmother.

But Gemma - as always, doesn't take kindly to getting pushed aside - grabs her arm. "Jax has been driving himself and everyone else crazy looking for you. I repeat...where have you been?"

No shit, he'd gone in to full stalker mode. When she'd finally looked at her phone this morning, there'd been one message from Mitch and about a million missed calls, voicemails and texts from her beloved husband - all of them demanding that she call him immediately. Well she's not one of his obedient flunkies so he can go fuck himself or his whore. She doesn't give a damn anymore.

" _You know better than most that Jax's got reach all over this county." Rosen opens one of his desk drawers, plucks out a business card and slides it towards her. "The word gets out on the street that he wants someone found, they get found…"_

 _She glances down at the card, which contains a single name - Neal Page - and phone number, then raises a questioning brow at her now de-facto lawyer. "So mysterious…What does he do? Create fake ID's? Probably not a good idea for me to get one of those considering I'm about to be on trial for accessory to murder."_

" _Private rental cars," Rosen smirks at her. "On Jax's say so, everyone with a Harley and a cut within a hundred miles of Charming will be looking for you. He could probably get that computer hacker of his to check every public rental car company between here and Tacoma for your name and credit card. When you rent from Neal, no records or plates can be traced to you...just to a nameless, faceless business account."_

 _Half an hour later, she'd pulled into a nondescript enclosed parking garage, removed the boys' car seats from her SUV and into a dark gray sedan - which Neal had told her was the most popular make and model in the state. "Nothing like hiding in plain sight," he'd chuckled. "Tinted windows help, too."_

 _She knows Jax would look for her…it's not as if she's hiding from him, not really. She'll deal with him when she's ready._

Wrenching away from Gemma's grasp, Tara glares at the miserable bitch that she'd once loved and admired. "Well now you can tell him," she sneers before turning on her heel towards the bedroom where her boys were probably still sleeping.

"Mommy?" Abel's blue eyes flutter open as she walks into the bedroom that he's been sharing with his brother.

Pressing a kiss to his smooth forehead, she feels her heart flip at the sight of her sweet little boy. She may not have given birth to him, but she'd been the first person to ever hold him…in her heart, he's been hers ever since. And then there are sometimes, he strongly reminds her of another darling blond boy whom she'd adored.

Thomas may have been named after his late uncle but her energetic, rambunctious youngest son mirrored his father in every way. Abel, on the other hand - with his quiet demeanor, his sweet and caring thoughtfulness - could've been that precious baby she'd first met on that park bench so many years ago.

"Good morning." She beams at him, finger-combing his sunny blond hair, then bursting into laughter when he launches up to hug her. "Oh, I missed you too."

He responds by squeezing her even tighter, driving daggers into her heart knowing that she'll have to leave again soon to make arrangements for the next chapter in their lives. But that can be put off for a little bit. "Hey, how about you, me and Thomas blow this joint and go out for pancakes?"

She can feel him nodding enthusiastically against her chest, still unwilling to let go. Which is completely fine because she's holding him just as tightly.

"Mama!" Her heart swells again as she glances over to the crib by Abel's bed where her other baby boy's not just awake, but on his feet jumping up and down excitedly, ready to join the party.

"Hello, Sunshine," she calls out, grinning at him. Then turning back to Abel, she cups his face. "While you get dressed, I'll get Thomas ready and then we can go. Okay?"

Abel nods then shoots out of the bed like a lightning bolt - her son definitely loves him some pancakes. Within minutes he and Thomas are a matched set of hoodies, jeans and sneakers. With Thomas in her arms, she steers Abel out the bedroom door only to be confronted by psycho grandma and a haggard-looking Wendy, who cowers behind Gemma after Tara pins her with a glacial stare.

Tara grits her teeth at the sight of the woman who'd nearly killed Abel before he had a chance to enter the world. Despite that and all the bitch's other fuck-ups and trips to rehab, she'd given Wendy every chance to redeem herself, to step in and be the savior and strong mother that Abel deserves, but no…Always so selfish and weak, the junkie whore had choked on that chance, scurrying back to Gemma like the flea-infested rodent that she was and would always be. Fuck her.

"Going somewhere, Doc?" Gemma drops the last word like a bomb, as if knowing how much it would hurt Tara to hear. "Jax is taking care of some business, but he'll be done soon. Then he wants to see his family when he gets here."

Squeezing Abel's hand, Tara draws both her boys closer to her then shoots Gemma a withering look. "That's nice. But I'm taking my sons out for breakfast. Sorry, but you're not invited." She can feel her mother-in-law weighing the options to keep them there by force but, crazy-as-she-is, she wouldn't attack Tara in front of her grandsons.

"C'mon Mommy." Abel tugs at her hand as he tries to squeeze past Gemma. "Grandma move! We're getting pancakes."

Somewhat disconcerted by her scowling grandson, Gemma backs down but still glares at Tara, who brushes past her without a second glance. "You and those boys had better be back when Jax gets here."

"Or what?" Tara tosses the question over her shoulder as Abel leads her and Thomas towards the front door. Despite his violent tendencies, Jax's never physically hurt her - far from it; rather, their long history's littered with the bloody retribution he's dealt to those who have.

But then again there's a first time for everything…

* * *

God she hates waiting, hates the empty moments marking time until someone or something delivers the outcome that could change her life. She's always preferred to act - to be her own change, not just sit and wait for it to happen. It's ironic - given the relationship and career choices she's made over the years, patience and tenacity weren't just virtues but necessities for survival.

Finally, she spots him emerging from the courthouse; the blank expression on his face causing her muscles to tense and Thomas to murmur in protest when she inadvertently squeezes him too tight. "Sorry, Baby," she whispers, brushing his silky hair as he fades back into sleep.

"How did it go?" Hope bubbles in her throat as Mitch plops down on the bench next to her. His glance flits from Abel, who's sprawled out on a blanket at her feet happily filling out his coloring book, to Thomas, who's asleep in her arms, before fixing on her.

After a boisterously fun and sticky pancake breakfast, Tara had been reluctant to take the boys back to Gemma's. Not only had she missed them so much after a day away, they gave her a badly needed distraction from all the dark shit threatening to crush her. Instead, she'd brought them to her appointment at Mitch's office; while they charmed his secretary, she'd told him what she wanted to do in the aftermath of yesterday's meeting with Patterson.

" _Believe it or not, but Patterson did you a huge favor with that piece of theater she pulled with you and Jax," Rosen leans back in his chair, a cagey smirk twisting his lips._

 _Tara shoots him an incredulous look. "You're kidding…she told me my husband fucked a hooker while I was in jail. What's my benefit in that? As far as I know, the charges against me won't be going away. If she can't get Jax for the school shooting, she'll need a win somewhere."_

" _Well she won't get it with your case." Rosen shakes his head. "Especially not without Otto around to testify. There's no evidence that you conspired with him…just some loose circumstantial connections that could be explained easily - especially with a dead ex-Marshall who had a mental disease as your chief accuser. I'm sure Patterson knows this. No, the only reason that your case hasn't been dismissed is that she convinced some judge friend of hers that you're still a string to be pulled to finally stop SAMCRO."_

 _Nodding pensively, she sets her coffee cup on the desk; suddenly she's not as cold anymore. "So then what did you mean by her doing me 'a huge favor'? Did she do something I can use to get the case dismissed?"_

 _The legal shark grins. And nods._

Although Rosen's counsel will be what steers her out of this legal shit storm, they'd agreed it would be in her best interest if they kept his involvement behind the scenes - especially since SAMCRO had once been his Client (and his father's). Mitch, with his unsullied reputation, would appear a more credible defender of an innocent woman caught in an overly ambitious prosecutor's trap.

This morning in Mitch's office, she'd seeded the ideas (that she and Rosen discussed) that would lead any smart lawyer to suggest filing a motion for a change of venue; the hearing would expose Patterson's double-dealings to a new judge and extricate Tara from the grasping woman's clutches. Then most likely, her case would be re-assigned to another DA in Sacramento or San Francisco, where Mitch could argue to get it dismissed for lack of evidence. If the new prosecutor didn't drop the case right for being complete bullshit.

And then Tara would be free.

So Mitch had argued the emergency motion for a change of venue this afternoon - per the court's own rules, it had to be heard right away, given that Tara's trial was scheduled to start in a couple of weeks. The DA's own actions had made it necessary, Mitch had included in his brief to the judge.

Unfortunately, since Tara couldn't bring the boys inside the courthouse, they had to wait outside at the grassy little area with benches across from the entrance. She probably could've brought them back to Gemma's, but then there was no guarantee the hearing would go her way…her freedom could still have an expiration date, so she's going to spend all the time she can with them.

Her heart starts pounding when Mitch's face splits into a smile.

"We got what we wanted." He pulls out some papers from his briefcase and hands it to her. "And then some. Judge Anderlee was pretty appalled at what the DA's done to get you to turn on the Sons, especially when I told her that Patterson knew that Toric was mentally ill but didn't reveal it to anyone just so she could keep her claws in you."

"Oh my God…" Her hand start shaking so much that she can barely read the page in front of her, but then all that really mattered to her was the red stamp at the top. DISMISSED.

"Are you okay, Mommy?" She glances up to see Abel peering at her, his blue eyes wide with concern. Her poor baby, he's probably had way too much to worry about the past few days with his crazy parents. But no more.

Dropping the paper to the bench, she reaches for him, hugging him – hugging both of her boys – tight against her. "Everything's fine, baby."

But then she shoots a quick glance at Mitch to confirm that this is all real, that she's not once again bundling all of her hopes into the promise of something that never materializes into anything but heartbreak. But Mitch's smile never wanes.

"It's over, Tara. The judge dismissed the case. You're free."

* * *

AN: I'm not a lawyer, everything I know about the criminal court system is from Law & Order. So I don't really know how long it would take to get a case dismissed, but this sounded good to me as I don't want the story to be about a trial.


	4. Feel Nothing

**Feel Nothing**

" _In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity"_

 _Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

Her grip tightens on the wheel as she stares at the all-to-familiar building emerging into view. How many times in her life have those doors at St. Thomas welcomed her - as a visitor, a patient, an employee, a goddamn victim?

During her childhood, the rambling red brick building had been a symbol of misery: where the doctors and nurses had treated her broken bones and various other injuries, their faces suspicious yet resigned after she'd claim yet another bicycle accident or tumble down the stairs or fall out of a tree.

Worst of all had been those excruciating hours sitting beside Jax, desperately hoping for the doctors to tell them that Tommy Teller would be okay, that he'd wake up any minute and be ready to go home. But there'd been no such reassuring words as her dear friend, the most darling little boy in the world, never again opened those sweet blue eyes. While the Teller family grieved together, Tara had slipped away and escaped to the first empty room she could find. Locking herself inside, she'd slid to the floor as the crushing grief overwhelmed her; nothing - not her Daddy's fists or even her Mom's death - had hurt more than knowing she'd never see Tommy again.

It wasn't until much later, after she had no more tears left, that Tara realized she'd stumbled into one of the doctor's offices - apparently one who worked with babies and little kids based on all the pictures adorning the walls. She'd been transfixed by the photos of the young doctor in green scrubs and white coat, grinning proudly as he posed with his small, healthy looking patients and their happy parents. Tara might've only been eleven years old, but she knew at that moment what she wanted to do with her life. She'd clutched the macaroni necklace that Tommy had made her in art class; maybe one day she'd be able to save a little boy like him.

Twenty years later, St. Thomas had given her that opportunity and so much more - in her green scrubs and white doctor's coat, she'd helped saved so many children and been widely respected as a gifted doctor with the brightest of futures.

But the workplace that had once been her haven from Joshua - and proud testament of how far she'd risen above her fucked up youth - was yet again a dreaded site, now a moldering emblem of shame and bitterness over the ruined career for which she'd worked so hard and sacrificed so much.

She pulls into the hospital lot, parks in an empty space then turns off the engine. Twisting in her seat, she smiles at the very first of the precious little babies she'd help save here at St. Thomas. Fuck Wendy, in Tara's mind and heart, Abel's very much her child, her blood. She'd told Jax that she didn't regret coming back to Charming, and that was pure truth - no way in hell could she imagine a world without her sons, Abel and Thomas were everything to her.

"Ok guys, we need to make a quick stop here. Then we can go back to grandma's house, and she'll make you dinner."

Abel wrinkles his little nose at her. "Don't want to go to grandma's house," he pouts. "Me and Tommy want to stay with you."

Tara would love nothing more than to never take them to that woman's house again, nothing more than to drive out of this parking lot - out of this fucking town - with her boys and never return. But even though the medical board revoked her license, the doctor still lives inside of her and she's still got one patient left who's counting on her. So even though the thought of returning the boys to Gemma makes her sick, she has to get back to the cabin to check on Bobby - and she doesn't want her sons anywhere near that place, especially since Jax would likely be there as well.

No, Abel and Thomas don't need to see their parents' inevitable ugly confrontation; Tara would endure any amount of Gemma's shit before she'd let her babies witness that.

However, given the short window available to finish her business at St. Thomas, she can't afford to get into a debate with the smartest five-year-old in town. Instead she counters with a broad smile and some distraction. "Ready to see Miss Molly?"

Guilt tugs at her as both boys chirp excitedly at the prospect of seeing their favorite day care teacher again. Even though Tara's no longer on staff - thanks to Margaret, she still has access to her old office and the hospital day care for the boys. But after the fake miscarriage debacle, Jax decided that only Gemma could watch Abel and Thomas since Tara could no longer be trusted to take them anywhere. Yet again her precious sons suffered for their parents' colossally stupid decisions.

And so, she couldn't refuse when Abel begged her to let him and Thomas stay at day care for snack time and yet another viewing of "Finding Nemo." Fuck Jax and his idiot Biker King commands. Besides, leaving the boys in Molly Murphy's capable hands for a couple of hours would allow her to check on Bobby at the cabin, then come back here to pick them up and go home. Screw Gemma.

But first she's got an appointment to keep…

* * *

"You know I'll always support you as much as I can, Tara. But you need to stop helping these…. _people_." Dr. Namid eyes her reprovingly as he plucks a bag filled with antibiotics and other medications from a drawer and slides it across his desk to her. "I know you think of them as family, but I hate what living among them has done to you."

While working at St. Thomas, Tara maintained friendly relationships with the hospital staff; many of the older doctors helped her through her residency, inviting her to assist in more difficult surgeries so she could learn and offering consult when she needed help with her own patients. After passing the exams to become a board-certified surgeon, she did the same for the young interns and residents - including mentoring her own replacement after the botched kidnapping had crushed her hand.

However, after all the shit with Otto blew up in her face - getting arrested and facing prison time, losing her job and medical license - many of her former colleagues distanced themselves from her. It was one thing for her to be an outlaw's Old Lady, a novelty that inspired amused disbelief and a bit of awe, but something completely unacceptable to be an accused criminal herself.

Not surprisingly, the three people who'd stood by her during these dark days were those who'd already seen her at her worst.

Margaret had been her rock and co-conspirator until the fear of Jax and SAMCRO retaliation had sent her bolting on an impromptu "vacation" with her husband and their younger kids (Molly, their oldest daughter, had refused to go with them citing responsibilities at the hospital day care). As devastating as Margaret's desertion had been, Tara couldn't blame her - Jax and Gemma weren't exactly known for their generously forgiving natures; no one was safe when either of those two went on a warpath, let alone both.

Unable to bear the disappointment in her former boss' eyes, Tara glances down and tugs at her new cast - another favor from another friend who hadn't abandoned her. Despite the fact she'd lost her job and the medical insurance that went with it, Balian had insisted on examining her hand after she got out jail and authorizing her physical therapy every week. And today, he'd asked a nurse to intercept her after she'd left the boys at daycare and take her to meet him in one of the exam rooms.

" _What is it?" Her brow puckers with worry at the sight of him waiting for her; after her last exam in this very room, he'd assured her that none of her jailhouse scuffles had done any damage. Did he check the x-rays again and see something worse? Frozen in the doorway, her heart lurches at the thought; with no more health insurance, she can't afford further treatment for herself. Even though Balian refused to charge her for his time, that doesn't mean the hospital will continue to let him do it. Besides, she and her sons are getting the hell out of this town - every dime she owns needs to go to that and setting them up in a new home._

 _Balian looks up from the chart he'd been studying and motions for her to come inside the room. "Nothing but good news." He offers a welcoming smile, no doubt to try and ease some of the anxiety that must've been radiating off her in waves._

 _He points to rectangular shaped box on the exam table. "We got a shipment of these today…I think it's exactly what you need."_

 _Raising an eyebrow at him, Tara walks to the table and opens the box - revealing the slimmest soft cast she's ever seen._

"… _it's a new material…should give you more comfort, more mobility while providing even better support so your nerves can heal faster."_

 _She runs her fingers across the cast's smooth fastenings, impressed by the sleek strength of the soft fabric, then steps back and somewhat reluctantly shakes her head. "The one I have is fine. You should give this to someone who really needs it."_

" _I am giving it to someone who really needs it." Balian pulls the cast out from the box and extends it to her. "I told you that I'm no optimist, but you're on your way to a full recovery. No reason not to hasten it along. Instead of six months, we could be looking at four."_

 _A month ago, she would've jumped for joy over the chance of reclaiming her surgical career that much sooner - but then a month ago, she hadn't been arrested and charged with accessory to murder, hadn't spent time in jail, hadn't been reduced by desperation to concoct that ridiculously asinine plot that would've given custody of her boys to Wendy. No, a month ago, she had a shiny new practice and a promising new life waiting in Oregon for her and her family (whether or not Jax chose to come with them). But now…_

 _Damn it, she doesn't want to think about her lost career, the end to her dreams. She can't afford to wallow in regret and self-pity, otherwise giving into that shit would destroy her like it did her parents. "Look, I appreciate this, I really do. But there's really_ _no rush. It's not as if I have a bunch of surgeries waiting for me."_

 _Balian presses the cast in her good hand. "You're a fighter, Tara. The medical board doesn't stand a chance in hell if you decide to take them on and get your license back. Talk to Namid…he would know."_

When she first received the letter from the medical board revoking her license, it'd hurt like hell, but at the time she'd been dealing with much bigger problems - including the very real and horrifying prospect of going to prison - so she'd shoved the death of her career to the back of her mind; having a medical license wouldn't do her much good inside. She'd tossed the letter without reading beyond the first paragraph.

But now that those charges against have been dropped, could she dare hope that she didn't need to lose everything? That maybe one day she could be a doctor again…after all she's going to need a livelihood to support her boys - no fucking way will they live off the dirty profits made by Jax's whore.

"So if I want to get my license back, what would I need to do?" Grimly aware of the irony of her question, she curls her fingers around the bag filled with not-so-by-the-book prescription meds.

A small smile deepens the creases of Dr. Namid's lined, yet still youthful face - the first he'd directed at her since she'd gone against his advice and started counseling prisoners, specifically Otto. He'd been more than a little vocal in his objections to her consorting with the "criminals" at Stockton - arguing that if anything bad happened, she'd be more vulnerable to scrutiny given her ties to SAMCRO. But she'd ignored his warnings in her stubborn, single-minded determination to help Jax and The Club.

If only she'd listened…

Leaning forward, she stares into the all-knowing eyes of the man who'd once been her boss, her mentor, her very inspiration to be a doctor when she first stumbled into his office to mourn the death of her best friend so many years ago.

She's listening now.

* * *

"That stupid, irresponsible shit…" Tara fumes, tossing her phone into her purse. She'd called the cabin to tell Bobby that she was on her way with his meds, only to be informed by Rat that Bobby had left to go to a Church meeting with the rest of the guys. What part of "bed rest" and "limited movement" did that overgrown idiot not understand? Once again, duty to The Club wins out - even over personal health and safety.

Gritting her teeth, she drives the few miles to Scoops, the newly designated SAMCRO clubhouse. Jacob Hale had bought the place a few months ago with the intent to transform it into a high-end creamery to serve gourmet ice cream flavors and over-priced juices to wealthy, future Charming Heights residents. But for months, Scoops' been closed while the fancy housing development remains stalled by red tape. Lucky for SAMCRO.

Tara eases her car into a space, cuts the engine and then once again stares up at an old building that's figured so prominently in her memories of life in Charming. On rare, non-dysfunctional days, her parents would take her here to celebrate perfect report cards - Mom had loved cookies and cream while Dad always ordered triple scoops of whatever he saw first. And strawberry was Tara's favorite.

And when she'd come here on dates with Jax, she'd developed an even greater fondness for the pale pink ice cream.

" _Let's go." He'd been staring at her a bit too intently as she licked around the single strawberry scoop, trying to prevent any of the melted cream from trickling down the cone._

 _She raises a brow at him, her lips twitching with amusement as he impatiently tugs her out of the booth. "Where are we going?" It's late, and they're the only two customers left; Jax had convinced the lone employee - a bored, wannabe croweater - to let them stay while she closed the store._

 _It doesn't take long to find out as he drags her into the single bathroom then locks the door. "I want to do a science experiment," he breathes against her neck, pushing her back against the wall. "You'll love it…trust me."_

 _Pulse hammering, her fingers tighten around the cone as he unbuttons her shirt and deftly unclasps the front close of her bra. "Well you know me…" She flicks the ice cream with her tongue as he tugs her shirt and bra down her arms, leaving her quite exposed. "Anything for science."_

 _Since their childhood friendship took a turn into something much more a couple of months ago, they can't seem to keep their hands off each other. While she wasn't ready for all-the-way sex yet - their status as a couple was still a little too new - that didn't stop them from doing just about everything else, just about everywhere they went together._

 _His breathing hitches and those bright blue eyes gleam with lusty appreciation as he ogles her bare breasts, causing her nipples to tighten and toes to curl. Given all of his previous sexual experiences with other girls, it's still weird for her to believe that he could get so worked up over her. But it's there in the way he looks at her, touches her, wants to spend every minute with her - Jax's in as deep as she is, and it's a fucking thrill._

 _He scrapes his index finger across the ice cream, then glances at the rosy pink froth gathered on his fingertip. "I'm convinced this is the same color as your nipples after I've sucked on them."_

 _Now it's her turn to suck in her breath as every inch of her shivers with carnal excitement. "That's your hypothesis?" She bends her heard to lap up more ice cream, her eyes glued to his. "Well then you'd better prove it."_

 _Wiping his finger on her nipple - causing her to shiver from the cold ice and hot anticipation - he lifts her easily so she can wrap her legs around his waist, then bends his head to her breast, his tongue lashing the tip before suckling softly then harder and harder._

 _The cone splits in her hand spilling the cold cream in her palm, but Tara doesn't care. Instead, she uses her free hand to spread more of the sticky pink mess on her other nipple, drawing Jax's greedy mouth. Stars explode in her head as he pleasures both of her breasts - nibbling and suckling her hungrily while she moans his name over and over, grinding hard against his stiff cock threatening to burst through his jeans._

" _Christ, Babe," he gasps after she screams her release, burying his face against her heaving breasts._

 _Her pounding heart squeezes at the sight of him fighting for self-control, something she's sure he's never had to do before hooking up with her. One day she'll reward him for it, but not now…not in this old ice cream parlor bathroom._

 _Running her fingers through his hair, she tugs lightly until he turns his desire-glazed gaze to her. "So…were you right?" Cupping his bristly cheek in her hand, she rubs her lips against his._

 _He responds by claiming her mouth in a long, hot, wet kiss. Then pressing his forehead against hers, he squeezes her tight as a cocky smirk spreads across his beautiful face. "Not sure...I'll need to do more experiments."_

Goddamn it! Tara smacks the steering wheel with her palm. She can't let the positive memories of her past with Jax invade her brain; they could only serve to distract and - even worse - blunt her anger and resolve. Nothing can get in the way of the safe future she needs to create for her boys - especially not their lying, cheating father.

Grabbing her bag, she slams out of the car and stalks towards the clubhouse, closing her eyes briefly to settle the turmoil brewing inside of her…a confrontation with Jax was likely coming, she'll need to muster every ounce of fight she's got to match up against the dirtiest fighter she knows.

But before she could go inside, the initial subject of her ire stumbles out the door with Chibs on his heels. "Hey Doc," Bobby shoots her a weak smile. "Fancy seeing you here. I was just on my way back to the cabin."

Crossing her arms across her chest, Tara glares at both men until both they squirm like little boys who've been well and truly busted. "You're not supposed to be out of bed, Bobby - in case you forgot you were shot _two days ago_." Reaching into her bag, she pulls out the medication and the note with instructions and shoves them at Chibs. "I called in my last favor...these should last him the next few weeks, which should be enough. Be sure you read these instructions before you give him anything."

"Thanks, Doc. But you should know, I wasn't out of bed long, I swear," Bobby assures her. "The guys just needed my help here."

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, until spots Jax through the ice cream shop window…and he wasn't alone; Tara's eyes burn at the sight of the blonde whore she'd caught fucking Jax a few days ago. Standing by the bar, Jax nods gravely as the whore explains something to him, running her hand up his arm affectionately.

The old Tara may have bolted inside and beat the shit out of the bitch, but instead she opts to take satisfaction in the old hooker's broken nose, blackened eye and swollen jaw. That cheap bitch won't be sucking dick without pain for some time.

Turning on her heel, Tara stomps back to her car, ignoring the two men calling out to her to come back; since Jax had been searching for her, he'd likely give them both hell for letting her go. She'd managed to open her car door when a big hand reaches out to grab her arm and spin her around…and bring her face to face with a pair of familiar - and furious - blue eyes.

"Where the hell have you been?" His grip tightens as she tries to pull free. "Why haven't you returned any of my calls? We need to talk, Tara."

She skewers him with a glare filled with all the loathing she could muster. "I didn't go ratting to the cops if that's what you're worried about." Apparently that was the case as his eyes soften a bit and his shoulders relax, however, his hold on her remains just as tight. "Didn't it occur to you that I didn't want to talk to you? Oh right, only what _you_ want matters…Let. Go. Of. Me," she grits through clenched teeth. "Your whore's going to get jealous."

Ignoring her taunt, he pulls her closer; his gaze raking her face, as if searching for any possible softness that she still might harbor for him - that he could exploit. "So then what are you doing here?"

Tara narrows her eyes at him; no doubt he didn't want her to catch him with that woman. "Sorry, I didn't realize I wasn't welcome."

She can tell her response annoys him, but his grasp loosens fractionally. "That's not what I meant." He reaches up with his free hand to touch her face, scowling when she flinches. "You can come here any time you want." Those blue eyes lock with hers, trying to communicate without having to say the words he didn't know.

But it's too late to save what they had...way too late. "Look, I came to bring Bobby some meds he's going to need for his recovery. I gave them to Chibs; if they follow the directions, Bobby should be fine."

His frown deepens as he finally releases her. "You're not going to look after him? Obviously, you don't have to, but I thought…I guess you have to concentrate on your trial."

She tosses her bag inside the car. "There's not going to be a trial; there was a hearing today, and they dropped the charges against me."

"Hey that's great news…"

"I'm leaving Charming, Jax. And I'm going to take Abel and Thomas with me." She jumps into the car before he can grab her again. "If you come home tomorrow, you can see the boys and we can talk more about visitation. But the only way you can stop me is if you kill me."

With that, she slams the door, guns the engine and drives away.


	5. Not Afraid of Anything

**Not Afraid of Anything**

" _If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles"  
_ _Sun Tzu, The Art of War_

Thinking about her life, she can't remember a time when fear wasn't a constant presence - mercilessly burrowing in her brain to the point she trusted almost no one, including herself, most of the time.

Fear plagued her youth - from her father's temper and his fists, her mother's rollercoaster depression, the possibility of getting buried in the foster care system if people knew about her home life, losing Tommy to his cruel family flaw, the threat of losing Jax to the endless parade of sluts determined to steal him from her and - worst of all - Jax choosing to stay in Charming instead of leaving for a better life with her.

But escaping Charming didn't mean leaving fear behind; incessant worry over failure drove her through college, med school and early career until Josh's terrorizing obsession chased her back to the one person who always made her feel safe.

However, ironically, in returning to home to Jax, she willingly embraced a life that ultimately scared her more than anything. For Jax, she'd thought life on the shady side of the law would be worth it - their love, their bond could withstand anything. However, despite the happiness she'd found in their reunion, fear won out again - this time not for herself, but for him and their sons; the nightmares that tortured her relentlessly had been visions of Abel and Thomas growing up with SAMCRO as their legacy…and their ruin - just like Opie, Piney, Half Sack, Kozik, Clay, JT and all the SAMCRO members before them.

When Jax took over as President, Tara thought she could manage those fears for her family - that once Clay was cast aside and rendered powerless, SAMCRO would deliver what the CIA needed to defeat that Mexican cartel and start moving towards John Teller's vision. Then Jax would lead her and the boys out of Charming for good, just like they'd planned.

But then the horrific tragedy of Opie's death sent them both spiraling at cross-purposes: it'd cemented Jax's resolve to stay and steer SAMCRO into a direction worthy of Opie's sacrifice, while she'd been even more desperate and determined to leave so that her boys would be saved from an outlaw's fate of prison and violent death.

For too long, that fear for Abel and Thomas blunted her usually rationale mind - steering her into decisions so ridiculous that she would've laughed her ass off if the outcomes hadn't been so goddamn devastating. She should've known that such deceitful machinations could never end well - Jax and Gemma, the master manipulators, bore evidence of that with their bloody history.

Now, miraculously there's a new chance to escape this toxic life for good, to give her sons the safe and happy life they deserved. But only if she can shove her fear aside and battle the man who scared the shit out of everyone.

After telling Jax of her intent to leave town with the boys, she stewed all night about all the possible repercussions that bombshell, which she'd lobbed at him in anger, could trigger. She'd managed to calm herself to sleep with the one positive truth about her husband: he loves his sons more than anything and wants the best for them; because of that, he wouldn't hurt the mother they need. Or so she hoped.

But such rational thoughts disappeared this morning as fear once again reared its ugly head when Jax stormed into the house - skewering her with an icy glare before cheerfully greeting both boys - then festered inside of her while the three Teller men ate their breakfast as if nothing had changed.

After breakfast, while Jax played with the boys in the backyard, Tara managed to distract herself by cleaning up and checking every room to ensure she didn't miss anything important when she packed their belongings last night; she even double-checked the directions to the hotel in Sacramento where they'd stay until she could find them longer term housing.

Finally, as a favor, Elyda arrived to pick up the boys for a trip to the park, leaving her alone with Jax so they could talk. And the fear came roaring back with a vengeance. In their long history together, Jax's always been her protector, her safe-haven; other people may have been afraid of him, but never her. Until now.

"You think you can just skip town with my kids to punish me, and I'll be okay with it?" Seated at the kitchen table, he glares at her as she sits down across from him. While his voice sounds deceptively mild, the frigid intensity in those blue eyes chills her blood.

Her gaze darts to the picture on the fridge that Abel drew of her last night. "Mommy" needs to do right by him and his little brother. Fuck fear. "It's not about 'punishing' you, Jax." Although she could cheerfully beat the shit out of him for fucking that whore. "I'm only following what you said your dad should've done with you and Tommy - getting my sons the hell away from here, away from the life we agreed that we didn't want for them."

"Don't throw my words back at me, Tara" he snaps. "That was a different time, Clay's gone. The Club's out of guns and…"

Tara shakes her head, both surprised and not surprised at his unwavering belief that a criminal motorcycle gang could shed its dark past and live happily-ever-after. "Guns weren't the only problem, and you know that. This outlaw life you love so much…there's always going to be risks to our lives, our freedom because we can't escape the consequences. You never expected to get involved in drugs, but it happened. I never expected to be part of a murder, but it happened. Awful shit will always happen when you leave yourself open to it."

Although he remains silent, fury radiates off him in scorching waves. Undaunted, she continues to poke the dangerous, raging bear. "You may not like me repeating your words, but you were right. Winding up in prison or winding up dead, that's life in SAMCRO - the life you've chosen for yourself. Please don't shackle Abel and Thomas to that. It's not fair to them - they're just little boys…your sons. Do you really want them to wind up like Opie? Because I sure as hell don't."

Shit, she may have gone too far as Jax slams his fist on the table, then shoots out of his chair so abruptly that it falls over and splinters. Bracing herself for his retaliatory attack, she eyes him warily as he stomps towards the counter and, with a violent swing of his arm, sends the dish rack filled with plates and cups she'd just washed crashing to the floor.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning those furious blue eyes back to her. "What happened to Opie…," he grits out through clenched teeth, "…is not going to happen to my sons. I won't let that happen."

Since they were kids, Jax always believed he could do anything (no doubt fueled by his psychotically doting mother), as if by sheer determination he could bend people and circumstance to his will. And for most of her life, Tara had loved that about him; she'd believed everything he'd promised her.

Until that blind faith in him blew up in her face. He's fucking crazy if he thinks she'll believe any of his goddamn promises ever again.

Crossing her arms, she narrows her eyes at him. "And it won't happen if I take them out of this hell hole; Abel and Thomas will not grow up to be criminals." She sucks in a breath then lets him have it. "We're leaving Charming today, Jax."

Despite the rage twisting his face and the shattered mess he'd caused at his feet, she could sense him fighting to control his temper - something he never bothers to do with anyone else. Which had to be a good sign that he still cared enough about her not to resort to the violence he inflicted on Wendy and Ima (yeah, she found out that he'd roughed up that porn slut after the bitch threatened them with a gun).

"That's not fucking happening…" he hisses. "You're not taking my sons from me."

Christ - like mother, like son - both Tellers instinctively process news based on how it affects them directly, then fight dirty and deadly to protect what they perceive to be their turf. However, Jax's always been a little more receptive to other people's reasoning than his rigid mother; Tara's betting her sons' future - and her life - on that.

"I'm not going to keep them from you. Abel and Thomas need their father, and I won't deny them that. But things have to change." She glances at rings on her left hand. "Now that the charges against me have been dropped, there's a small chance that I can get my license back. The boys and I are moving to Sacramento so I can challenge the medical board's decision."

His silence blisters her ears as she warily eyes his flexing jaw and clenched fists. A quiet Jax Teller could be lethal, like a killer cobra lying in wait. But she's had more experience and success than most at navigating his temper. "We'll be less than an hour away, so you'll be able see them - maybe as often as you do now. You and I can work out visitation once the boys and I are settled." Tara may be beyond pissed at him, but she'd meant it about never refusing her sons the father they love.

"It's what's best for them, Jax. It's what's best for all of us."

He steps closer, crunching broken glass beneath those pristine white sneakers. Planting his palms on the table, he leans towards her like a panther ready to attack his prey. "And then what? How long does it take to fight the medical board? How long are you going to be pissed at me before my family comes back home?" His ice blue gaze bores into her, as if trying to penetrate her brain for any unspoken schemes or intimidate her into capitulating to his will (most likely both).

But unlike so many of pathetic sheep in his life who've cowed into acquiescing to the Biker Prince-turned-King, Tara holds her ground and stares back unflinchingly. She's too fucking tired of secret plots, too fucking tired of his bullshit view of "family," too fucking tired of being afraid.

"We won't be coming back." Once again, her gaze drifts to her rings; she'd been so thrilled when he'd slid them on her finger. Without hesitation, she pulls them off and places them on the kitchen table before rising to her feet. "I'm done."

Unable to bear the hurt that twists his face before he could mask it, she whirls around to stalk out of the room. Ignoring him when he bellows her name, she marches down the hall - every cell in her body vibrating in terror that he'll either catch up to her and force an even uglier confrontation…or just kill her.

Pausing in front of their bedroom door, she closes her eyes at the sound of his heavy footsteps; pained regret stabbing through her that they'd come to this, that she and Jax were truly over, that she actually expected a bullet to tear through her body…that he'd murder her in the home where they'd once been so happy.

Instead she hears the front door open and then slam shut so violently that the walls shake. As her soon-to-be-ex-husband's Harley roars to life, Tara lifts her ringless fingers to her lips and bursts into tears.

* * *

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Rolling her eyes, Tara sweeps up the rest of the broken shards of glass and stoneware. She'd thought of leaving Jax with the mess he'd made, but her somewhat meticulous nature wouldn't allow her to leave the dishes she'd bought with her first paycheck as a surgeon scattered on the kitchen floor. If she knew Gemma would be darkening her doorstep not ten minutes after Jax's departure, she would've got the hell out of there before the Harley was out of earshot.

"I would think that's obvious." Tara drawls, holding up the broom to her seething mother-in-law before dumping the dustpan's contents into the trash. "What do you want, Gemma?" She grits her teeth in annoyance over the fact Jax went running to his mommy so fast.

"Where are the boys? Why didn't you bring them to my house this morning?" Gemma demands. "Jax said no day care; I'm supposed to watch them from now on…especially since your ass will be back in jail soon."

Tara blinks in confusion before it hits her that Jax hasn't kept Mommy Dearest in the loop. Well this should be fun… "I'm not going to jail; the charges against me were dropped." She smirks with satisfaction at the surprised disappointment on Gemma's face. "Instead, I'm taking Abel and Thomas and we're getting the hell out of Dodge."

Anger quickly replaces shock. "You can't do that!" she screeches at Tara. "Jax won't let you."

Fuck this men-rule-women biker bullshit. "I don't need his permission, Gemma." Tara snaps. "I'm their mother, and I'm doing what's best for them."

"Abel is NOT…"

"Abel IS my son." Tara's temper spikes into the stratosphere as it does each time anyone, especially Gemma or Wendy, have questioned or threatened her place as her sweet boy's mother. "I have every legal document that makes it so; no judge in this country would take him from me and hand him over to criminals or a junkie who's been in and out of rehab more times than anyone can count."

Gemma's brown eyes narrow menacingly. "Then I won't let you," she hisses before charging towards Tara like an enraged bull.

Although she manages to dodge when the crazy former Biker Queen lunges for her throat, she's not fast enough to stop Gemma from smacking her hard across the face. Despite the ringing in her ears, she can hear the other woman screeching "You're not stealing my family!"

Red mist coats Tara's vision as her blood boils. This bitch almost killed Tara's babies in a drug-fueled car accident and now wants to keep them on a path that ruined their father and killed their grandfather. FUCK HER. Balling a tight fist, Tara swings and connects with Gemma's chin, sending the woman crumbling to the ground in an unconscious heap.

Stooping, Tara checks Gemma's pulse - after all she does have a heart condition - which thuds strongly against her fingers. Both a blessing and a curse.

"Bye bye, grandma," Tara snickers before leaving the kitchen. Taking one more look around, Tara grabs her bag from the living room couch and walks out the door to her fully-packed car.

* * *

"Mommy!"

Abel rushes towards her, as he always does when he greets her after even after the shortest of separations. She squats to hug him then can't help but laugh when he practically knocks her over with his exuberance. Kissing his cheek, her heart just melts at the sight of the grubby mix of flowers and weeds he thrusts at her.

"Do you like the flowrs?" He asks, his blue eyes widen expectantly. "Leeda (he still can't correctly pronounce Elyda's name) said all mommies like flowrs."

"I LOVE them," she assures him. "They're the most beautiful flowers anyone has ever given me. Thank you, for picking them for me." Her smile widens as Elyda walks towards them holding Thomas, who reaches for her immediately.

" _Say hello to your baby brother, Abel. His name is Thomas." Tara bites her lip in anticipation as he glances down at the small baby bundled in her arms._

 _She'd explained to him that the big bump in her tummy meant he would get a little brother - and while he seemed excited about the prospect, she suspected he was too young to fully understand what that it really meant. For so long, it had been just the two of them with Jax locked up in Stockton. Now they were three._

 _Any worry she may have had over his reaction to the new baby disappears when Abel crows with excitement then gently strokes his baby brother's cheek. "Hi, Toms," he chirps, causing Tara to suck in a breath at hearing the pet name she'd had for Jax's baby brother, who had once been her dearest friend in the world. That darling boy couldn't say 'Thomas' so she'd called him 'Toms' instead of correcting him when he said his own name._

" _You can call him Tommy if that's easier," she tells him, hoping the toddler can pronounce it. While she and Jax agreed to name their baby for the little boy they both loved, Tara doesn't want to her son linked to the special name she had for his uncle; there was just too much sadness there. Although it's been twenty years since fate cruelly robbed them of the first Thomas Teller, the pain of missing him still lingers._

" _Like Tommy Train!" Abel claps his hands excitedly as Tara laughs. Like every little child on the planet, Abel's obsessed with Thomas the Train, who apparently now has a new nickname._

" _Just like Tommy Train," she agrees then wraps an arm around him so that she's holding both of her sons tightly. "He's lucky to have you for a big brother." Tara grins as Abel puffs out his chest with pride; she'd told him that being a big brother was so important…his Daddy had been one, too._

" _And you know what?" She ruffles his soft blond hair, melting as those bright blue eyes gaze up at her (like father, like son). "I love you both to the moon and back." She quotes the storybook that's part of his bed-time ritual.*_

 _Abel beams at the reference. "To the moo and back!"_

Pressing a kiss to her baby boy's soft head, she hugs Abel tight in her other arm. God, she loves them both so much…there's nothing in the world she wouldn't do to keep them safe. Even if it means fighting the most dangerous man on the planet - and his mother.

Fuck fear.

* * *

*from "Guess How Much I Love You" by Sam McBratney

AN: Huge apologies for the long delay in updating. I haven't abandoned this story or FF writing, I've just been swamped with work and RL and haven't had any time for FF. Thanks so much for your patience!

Also recently, I've been playing around with my outline for this story. I hadn't planned to bring back Nick Reese from The Right Direction Pt 2, but when I re-read the outline and the previous chapters, I can hear him in my head making a case to be added. Or maybe I'm just crazy for hearing voices :)

I guess we'll see if he can talk his way into the story.


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